


Finding the right words

by NearlyThornless



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkward Eren Yeager, Denial of Feelings, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin) Being An Asshole, M/M, Obsessed Eren, Secret Crush, Slow Build, Smut, Tutoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:49:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NearlyThornless/pseuds/NearlyThornless
Summary: When Eren's daydreams about his tutor Levi become a bit too much for him to handle, he starts writing them down into his notebook. They're safe in there, just forbidden fantasies that no one but Eren will ever get to see, right? Wrong.





	Finding the right words

'He tells me to get on my knees and I fall like a crumbling brick wall, a useless puddle at his feet as I look up and almost forget to breathe. It's all too much because I'm smelling him and I'm seeing him up close and I'm touching his pale skin like it's not even the fucking miracle that it is, being able to touch him like that after all this time. It's unreal, it's so unreal that I cannot really handle half of the things going on, but that's not going to stop me, not now. Not ever.

My hands cling to his pants like my life depends on being able to tear those black jeans he's always wearing down, not because they don't suit him but because my mouth waters and my heart stops at the thought of what's hidden underneath those layers of clothes. 

I'm not patient and I've never claimed to be, but I almost want to wait just for the sake of bathing in this feeling for a while longer, making sure it stains every inch of my being. 

The eagerness is stronger though, and although my hands aren't experienced when it comes to opening another person's pants, I do an alright job considering that my hands are shaking. It's only seconds until I've opened them, but apparently it's not fast enough despite that judging by the fist that grabs a handful of my brown locks, pressing my face towards the general direction of those bits of skin that I'm just dying to kiss, to taste. Levi's grip on my hair hurts, but I like it more than anything, and I don't dream of telling him to let go. He could beat me bloody and I'd still be here, on my knees.

Waiting, wanting. 

"Eren I swear to God if you don't hurry up, I'm going to find someone else to suck my dick," he tells me and there's that annoyed expression on his face; that bit of roughness in his words that does funny things to my insides whenever he's talking to me. I know he's being serious, that he could easily find someone else, and he probably will. But just for this moment, I like to imagine that I can make him forget about that fact, that I can please him. 

I feel like I'm going to die, because I know that we're getting to the better part of this, and I take his words to heart. 

Because I'll prove to him that he doesn't need to search for someone else. And if that short look he directs at my face makes me aware of anything, then it does make me aware of the fact that he knows exactly how eager I am to be good at this. He can probably tell that my lips are dying to feel the soft skin of his dick between them, to wrap around that hard piece of flesh and let him fuck my face as he pleases, for as long as it takes. 

Hell, he could choke me or slap my face and I wouldn't protest at all.

My skin is still pressed against his jeans and I can feel that he's hard because the bulge is pressing into my cheek, and I do the only thing I possibly can. With one quick movement that luckily doesn't betray my nervousness I pull his pants down along with the black boxers that I only catch a short glimpse of. Because as soon as the pants come down, my attention is instantly elsewhere, all of it. 

Levi's dick is a masterpiece and I feel like a hopeless artist, ready to admire the sight forever with an open mouth and wide eyes. I'm not so sure what a doctor would say about the speed of my heartbeat, but if I'll get a heart attack, then I'm dying happily. 

I feel those grey orbs on me again, and before he gives my head another shove in the direction, I'm quick to move on my own, finally snapping out of the hypnosis that seeing his erection has put me in. 

Instead of teasing him, I do what I can feel like he wants me to. I make sure to look up at him, watching his expression change slightly as my tongue descends on the leaking tip, tasting the salty bitterness on the pink skin. It's a weird taste, incredibly hard to describe, but I swear it only makes me thirstier. 

I'm not entirely sure how to go about this, because despite the fact that I've imagined this scenario a thousand times now perhaps, it's still entirely different to have this massive erection of my dreams right in front of my face, standing there proudly and waiting for me to finally be brave and go way further than just tasting the wetness that leaks out.

"Eren, stop staring at my dick and fucking do something. Don't make me regret this," Levi pushes, his hand pulling me forwards and I move right along with it, letting my eyes fall close and my mouth fall open so he can push right inside. 

And my mouth is full, entirely filled up already, and I can tell that this is going to be a messy affair because my throat already wants to protest, but I force myself to relax my jaw although I must say that it really does take every bit of self control I can muster. My own dick is more than hard, pressing against my pants painfully, and I make a soft sound when the tip crashes into the back of my mouth. 

It takes a few seconds before I can open my eyes, but when I do I'm more than glad. Levi stands there, towering over me like an enormous statue of a perfectly proportioned body that's so well crafted, it can hardly be anything more than a fantasy. His body is like that, every inch another piece of perfection, and it's almost unfair how so much of that can be inside just one person. But I'm not going to complain, because this perfect, muscular body is so close to mine that I almost want to turn around and beg for him to just fuck me instead, but I couldn't possibly be that selfish now, could I? 

Besides, I've no idea how often I have dreamed about sucking his dick, and I'm not going to disappoint. 

So instead of focusing too much on how horny his half closed eyes and his hand in my messy hair make me, I finally gain enough control over my hands to actually reach out with my right hand and give the thick shaft a few hard strokes, making sure to touch every bit of skin that I cannot fit into my mouth. I do that for about ten seconds until I've found somewhat of a rhythm, and then I begin to move my head along with those strokes, wrapping my lips closely around the warm flesh and enjoying each wet sound that it produces as the already wet erection slides in and out like my mouth was put on this earth simply for the sake of milking his cock with a sense of desperate urgency. 

It's already so much, but I know that I can do better than this, and I want to really see a big change in his expression; something, anything to assure that he likes what I'm doing. 

I can tell that my lips are beginning to feel swollen with the amount of sucking they are doing, and I love the feeling. I love how it makes the skin feel somewhat numb, how I accidentally bite the inner parts of my lips as I use them as protection from my teeth. 

"You've never even done this before, have you?" He asks suddenly, and his deep voice makes me shake, a moan slipping out of my mouth just from his voice alone. He sounds almost breathless, but it's nothing in comparison to me. He's still guarded, aware of his behavior, unlike me. Instead of giving him the embarrassing answer that yes, this is indeed my very first time having a dick in my mouth, I work his erection faster, taking it in further than I should, because it's starting to hurt, but I'm willing to pay that prize, if only for the brief moment of surprise that colors his features in an entirely new shade of otherworldly. 

It feels almost as if I might come from having my mouth filled like that and looking at his expression alone. I'm pathetic like that, but I still somehow mange to hold myself back. 

"Don't close your fucking eyes," he complains again, "I want you to look at me while you while my dick slides in and out of your useless mouth." 

And so I do, making sure to look up like he wants me to as I try as best as I can to find a good combination of using both my tongue and my lips to get him off. I like how he doesn't care that my breathing is becoming messier and messier, saliva running down the sides of my mouth like a sinful waterfall; my throat is aching now, but I keep moving my head forward and back, not once slowing down. There's nothing I want more in this world than to see his face as he reaches his orgasm and fills my mouth up with his cum. That's my only focus, my one mission that I'm dying to fulfill. 

Perhaps I'm being a bit too ambitious though, because when I let his erection slip past my lips and to the back of my mouth yet again, I cannot help the sudden coughing fit that it causes, and I clench my fists at my sides because I don't want to fuck this up simply because my body cannot handle it. I'm half afraid that he's going to pull out of my mouth and tell me to get lost, but magically, the opposite happens. 

While I'm still fighting against my body's attempts to breathe properly, he takes me by surprise and strengthens his hold on my head, not giving me any time to recover as he steadies my head and begins to thrust into my mouth at a pace that's agonisingly slow to both me and him probably, and I cough and struggle to get air between the thrusts that gradually pick up in pace. 

Before my mind comprehends that it's really happening, his thrusts become more forceful and he uses me like a cheap prostitute, making sure that I know my place as I sit there with my knees on the cold restroom floor and my mouth open and warm, busy in the best of ways, and teary eyed. 

I cannot really help that, between the arousal and the intensity of the sensations, tears have collected in my eyes and they fall slowly one by one, traveling down towards my mouth. 

The only way of taking in air I have is through my nose, and I concentrate on doing that because I can feel the lack of oxygen start to get to me, my mind going blurry as his forceful, angry rhythm doesn't slow down once, not a bit of pity in his movements or his eyes, and I love how dominant he can be, and everything that he does so recklessly. Maybe it's sick, but it's like that whenever he gives me that annoyed stare, making it clear that he's not interested. 

It makes me want to get him interested. 

And if the way his pupils start to widen and his breathing becomes somewhat irregular is any indication, then I'm doing an alright job in getting him somewhat interested. His movements are becoming somewhat more urgent, too, hips slamming back and forth as he just keeps forcing his way into my mouth and way further than I myself managed to let him in. 

The sounds I make are obscene at best, grunts and broken moans that are further contorted by his movements inside my mouth, and in that moment I don't care whether someone hears this or even comes into the room to be greeted with the sight of me worshipping Levi's dick like others worship the Lord himself. 

Despite the tears and the abuse that my face is enduring, I keep my eyes on Levi's, and although he doesn't explicitly say it, his eyes speak volumes. He likes to see me down here, likes to thrust into the warm, wet hole and push himself so far into me that he cannot possibly go any further. 

Then he stops, and my eyes widen because the anxiety kicks in yet again. Have I made a mistake? 

"Eren, listen closely. When I come, you're going to swallow every drop and don't you dare throw up, alright?" he says in a dangerous tone that reminds me of the hardness between my own legs yet again. His voice is even despite the hint of breathlessness in it, and it is beyond me how he is able to sound almost as if he's having a regular conversation. 

 

I nod eagerly, my bangs falling into my eyes as I let him manhandle me however he pleases. There's only time for one last deep breath before he starts moving again, all hard thrusts and choking sounds from me. 

He's going so fast that I cannot even tell whether I'm still crying and how in the world I am still conscious despite the fullness of my mouth and the lack of air that reaches my lungs. 

It's surreal and a lot to handle for my inexperienced body, but I'm doing my best to make this feel good for him, and that's why I muster what little clarity I have left in me and start humming around the swollen skin, and I can tell that he's going to come before it even happens. 

His eyes are almost closed now, but no less intense than they always look, if anything even more so. I'm not entirely sure how I manage to actually keep my eyes open, but I bet I look fucking gone when he whispers a silent, "fuck," and shoots his cum right into my throat, his hand now guiding my head along with his dick, and I do my best to follow his order, swallowing greedily around the tip, coughing and desperate as I try not to waste one single drop so he knows how much this means to me. 

He keeps going in and out steadily, even when all of his cum is already stored safely in my stomach and his cock begins to lose its hardness. He's absent-mindedly stroking my head like I'm some sort of pet, but I almost moan again because of that tiny action. It almost feels like some sort of affection, perhaps not the pure kind, but affection nonetheless.

That's when he pulls out of my mouth and I'm left strangely empty with the entirety of the skin inside my mouth swollen and numb, as I take in air at a frantic pace, only now noticing just how much of a toll this really took on my throat and my neck. I won't be able to move my head normally for the next few days, but that's more than worth it. 

A goofy smile breaks through my struggle for air, and for a short moment, there's nothing but that feeling of satisfaction in the air between us.

It's insane in the best way possible, but that moment ends quickly when his pale hand leaves my head, our eye contact breaking after half an eternity as he lazily pulls his pants back up, shutting his dick away and almost making me want to protest. 

"Your face is a mess, Eren. Clean yourself up before lunchtime is over, or everyone is going to see that you had my dick for lunch today," he says and chuckles amusedly, looking me in the eyes for another second. "Don't forget that we're practicing for your French test later," he says before he steps away and leaves without turning around once, exiting the room so quickly that I wonder for a moment whether this truly just happened. 

Judging by the pain and the sore feeling in my mouth, it definitely did happen. No question there. 

That's why I'm still grinning as I stand in front of the dirty mirror and wash my face with the cold ass water that's always freezing, no matter whether it's summer or winter. 

I don't rinse my mouth though, because I like the lingering taste of Levi in my mouth that much.'

By the time I have finished writing my little story, my hand aches and I have to stretch my fingers because apparently I use too much pressure when I'm writing about those sorts of things. 

It's not like I'm always writing dirty scenes about fucking my tutor, in fact I'm only trying to find new ways to get a bit of control over my obsession with that one certain raven haired male, and since drawing dirty pictures of his body didn't exactly work out due to a lack of talent, I've bought a notebook and started writing down random scenes that I daydream about during boring lessons or while I'm alone in my room without anything to do. 

It's not like I'm being like this on purpose, it's just that I'm literally going crazy in the presence of him every day, and perhaps it's my age, but my body definitely doesn't see any reasons to keep my thoughts or hormones in check around my French tutor Levi Ackermann.

I'm quick to get lost in those thoughts again, so much so that I don't exactly notice the bell signaling the end of the lesson.

"What are you writing, Eren?" I hear Mikasa's voice, and it's only thanks to my relatively quick reflexes that I'm able to close the note book in time before she's by my side, giving me that usual 'I'm worried' stare that I ignore out of habit. 

"Nothing, just random texts and such," I say, and stuff the book into my bag, hurrying to get it out of anyone's sight. 

If anyone ever got their hands on those texts, I'd be fucked. And perhaps I should cross out the names in order to make it somewhat less embarrassing, but I still want to avoid letting anyone see this altogether. It's just that, my tiny book that doesn't concern anyone that helps me keep my fantasies in check somehow. 

"If you say so," Mikasa says in a suspicious tone, and doesn't ask anymore questions about the writing which I'm thankful for. "Are you coming with me? I wanted to visit Armin since he's been sick for the last week?" 

"I can drop by later, but I need to learn for the French test tomorrow first, Levi wasn't all that happy with my grade the last time so we're doing an extra hour today. Making sure I'm not failing the next one, too" I tell her, making sure I don't seem too eager. That'd only cause her to ask more questions. 

"Maybe he's not a good teacher," she says, "You haven't really improved all that much since he started tutoring you." 

And once again, I need to make sure that I don't appear too defensive. 

"That's because I find it hard to concentrate on French, it's such a weird fucking language!" I exclaim, and it's true, I've always found that language particularly complicated. 

"I don't really find it that hard, but alright. I need to get going if I want to catch the bus. See you later and try to stay focused this time, then." 

I wave her goodbye, and pack up the rest of my things before leaving the classroom too, heading in the direction of the bench outside where we've been sitting for those lessons ever since the temperatures have become acceptable. 

Despite the knowledge that I'm not going to be particularly focused on French, I still make my way there with a happy bounce in my steps, because those study meetings with Levi are definitely the highlights of my week, although I know that it's not much more to him than a way to earn 15 dollars an hour by tutoring a stupid brat who sucks at French.


End file.
